


Familia

by cat_77



Series: Flufftober 2018 [20]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/pseuds/cat_77
Summary: She knows her family has her back.  She also knows that they know she can fully handle herself.  Life is win-win that way.





	Familia

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt of “family.”
> 
> * * *

There were times that Isabelle wished the Institute was not so heavily glamoured. Times such as when she forgot to use a similar spell on herself at all, leaving her completely visible to the world at large.

Okay, so that part might have been on purpose. Her outfit was awesome, as was the body in it, and she was simply sharing that awesomeness because she was kind and generous like that. True, the effect of it all was slightly wasted as she headed towards what she knew looked like nothing more than a dilapidated old church in serious need of repair to most, but she had already had her fun for the evening and was headed back to work. Specifically, she was headed back to catch the tail end of the weekly Downworlder meeting and provide them with the intel, aka seedy rumors, she had managed to get before most of them went out for tapas.

She was mere steps away from the outermost wards when she heard it: a low whistle followed by, “They let you out looking like that?”

She turned on her impressive heels to face what she assumed was a frat boy who ended up in the wrong part of town, only to be sadly disappointed. “Ridgecliff, as someone exiled by the Clave, you know you are not welcomed here.”

The young man with auburn hair whom she had last seen covered with more runes than even herself waved a decidedly bare arm to encompass both her and the building behind her. “I heard you’ve let strays in before and decided to test that theory myself. Or is that only for family?” he asked with a smile that was all teeth.

“Leave. Now,” she ordered. She was not about to let him talk about her mother like that.

He huffed a breath out through his nose. “Or what, you’ll make me?” he baited. He stepped closer, and she could feel the preparation for battle as much as see it in his stance. “I bet I can take you before you can even reach for your stele. Might almost be fair then without our strength runes. I’ll even go easy on you to even the odds.”

He lunged and she easily ducked his attack. He was nearly a head taller than her, even in her heels, but grace and balance were innate things to her by this point and she spun and kicked without even the slightest wobble. The same could not be said for him. “Leave,” she repeated.

She was tempted to use her bracelet, let it flow into the whip in her hands, but opted to give him one last chance. He repaid her by throwing himself at her in a full body tackle, his superior size and weight meaning he had a good chance of taking her down to the hard cement where she would lose much of her advantage.

Only she collided with something soft instead.

Soft. Not quite warm, but almost. With a familiar rich cologne that flowed over her skin almost as much as the fine fabrics that cushioned it.

“Problem?” Raphael asked with his usual calm. He did not try to hold her back and only braced her enough to right herself.

“Not at all,” she replied. She flipped her hair back into place and watched for a reaction from Ridgecliff. Maybe the presence of another would bring him to his senses.

It did not.

“You would dirty yourself by letting a vampire touch you?” he asked in disgust. A knife fell into his grasp, not a seraph blade, but still weapon enough in trained hands.

“Seems like there might be a problem,” a new voice chimed in. Simon. He stood to the side, still a few steps behind her, but letting his presence be known.

“Pretty sure Isabelle has it covered,” Luke said as he joined the apparently growing crowd. She assumed this meant the meeting had gotten out early.

“A werewolf too?” the former Shadowhunter scoffed. “You let their filthy kind near an Institute? You let any Downworlder this close without them being in chains or cells or their corpses as prizes? What are you to them? Are you their wh-”

“She’s our family,” Magnus said, stopping him before he could use his derogatory term of choice. Isabelle noticed he flashed his true eyes for the briefest of moments to let her opponent know just what he was dealing with before he added as an aside, “Well, in my case that’s actually quite literal since I’m pretty much married to her brother at this point. All but the ceremony and all that.”

“And you’re like a father to me, so technically she’s like my aunt,” Raphael grinned, clearly amused. “Tia Isabelle. Has a nice ring to it.”

“I’m dating her mother,” Luke shrugged. “Though my surrogate daughter is dating her adopted brother, so take that as you will,” he added, jerking his thumb back to where Clary and Jace now stood on the steps by the doorway.

“I’m the adopted brother,” Jace provided helpfully. Both he and Clary waved, him with a blade in hand and her with a stele.

“And I consider Raphael here far more of a sire than Camille, so he’s kinda both my stepdad and brother all rolled up into one,” Simon chimed in. “Downworlder family trees start to get three dimensional after a while. It’s weird. Oh, plus I’ve got the whole best friend to the adopted brother’s girlfriend thing going on.” Isabelle could practically feel Jace trying not to roll his eyes at that.

Alec leaned against the door jamb, more than a single guard peeking out to see what was going on. “I’m the actual brother,” he called out. “I’m also the head of this particular Institute, so you might want to rethink any plan you might have in that empty skull of yours right about now.”

Ridgecliff seemed to consider that for maybe an entire second before he threw it right out the proverbial window. He lunged again and, to the gathered crowd’s credit, not a one lunged back. Oh, they tensed and readied themselves, but they knew she could handle herself just as well as she could and let her do so. 

It took her maybe a minute before she had him facedown on the concrete, hands secured behind his back with her whip, blade discarded. “Wanna ready one of those cells he seems so interested in?” she asked, foot securely on his spine.

“I think that can be arranged,” Alec agreed. He made a rough motion and two of the guards came forward to further secure the prisoner for a night’s uncomfortable stay before he would be returned to the Clave for further punishment. 

She didn’t miss the way her brother less than subtly checked her over, just like she didn’t miss the way he wasn’t the only one. She brushed that, and her hands, off before she cheerfully asked, “So, tapas?”


End file.
